Parseltongue
by Alania Black
Summary: The first time Neville used Parseltongue, he thought he was speaking English until he found himself in the Chamber of Secrets, and the broom he summoned to fly out of there turns out to be Draco Malfoy’s, who uses this distressing time to accuse Neville o


Summary: the first time Neville used Parseltongue, he thought he was speaking English until he found himself in the Chamber of Secrets, and the broom he summoned to fly out of there turns out to be Draco Malfoy's, who uses this distressing time to accuse Neville of stealing it for illicit sexual purposes. Neville soon finds himself buying Draco's loyalty with sex, while discovering a connection to Volemort that might just win the war.

Warnings: Use of sex for blackmail, mentions of using broomsticks for sexual purposes, Voldemort-death, not-fluffy fluffiness, confused Neville. Mentions of rape, torture and other Death Eater related activities.

Note: I have recently been reading fics of the Neville/Draco variety ( thanks to The Not So Little Neville Draco Fic List) And have come over all inspirited. Thank the Goddess, I thought my muse had died and gone to muse-heaven, filled with lots of cute fluffy plot bunnies to play with, in the wake of exam stress, insomnia and over-work. Not so, my friends! The muse lives on!

Unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own and my spell-checker's.

Parseltongue.

The first time Neville used Parseltongue, he thought he was talking in English, until the snake-image _shifted_ and he thought he heard a "yes Master" before the sink began to move and suddenly he was somewhere he recognised from Harry's descriptions as the Chamber of Secrets.

"Well," he said out loud and thankfully in English, "This is unexpected." He just thanked Merlin the snake was dead and performed a summoning charm for a broom, upset that he'd have to get on one, and expecting the spell not to work. When the broom, a rather nice looking Firebolt, nearly hit him in the head, he grasped it in hands too numb with surprise to shake and flew out of the room. The sink re-sealed itself and Neville was staring at the broom in surprise when Draco Malfoy walked in and snatched it out of his hands, examining it minutely for marks.

"Trying to Summon something to help you wank, Longbottom?" He sneered, making an explicitly rude gesture with the broom before sweeping out, leaving Neville to figure out what he meant and blush – spectacularly – before leaving himself and hiding in the room.

He wasn't entirely sure what to do about the Parseltongue problem. He'd never spoken it before, or understood it that one time he heard Harry talking it, but the entrance to the Chamber was hidden by a Parseltongue activated guard. He supposed it was because of the attack during the summer when his Gran had died. The curse Voldemort had used on him before Aurors had arrived to rescue him had left a painful scar on his thigh, but it was certainly nothing like Harry's. And it was a fluke that his new wand was the same as Harry and Voldemort's. And the Parseltongue was a hand-me-down from a distant ancestor's meddlings with the Slytherin line, he was sure.

The next attack on a Muggle village left Neville in no doubt that something bad was going on – he'd known about the attack, had heard Harry wake during the night and go to Dumbledore while Neville himself was reeling from the images he dreamed. Everyone knew about Harry's connection, everyone knew he could see what He was doing, and everyone knew it had lead Harry to the Ministry the previous year when Voldemort attacked and so many of their friends nearly died. Thankfully no one did, and the capture of Peter Pettigrew meant that battle was their victory, not His, but it showed the dangers Harry's visions brought that he could be lead into a trap.

When he dreamed of Voldemort telling Lucius it was time for Draco to be Marked, Neville knew he had to do something. The blonde was vicious and vindictive, but he wasn't evil, and he wasn't capable of murdering people. Harry had done exactly what he always did, and went running to Dumbledore, but Neville went to Draco.

"Don't go home at Christmas." Neville told him bluntly. Draco sneered at him, barely showing his surprise that Neville had cornered him in the library.

"Why? Worried you'll lose your favourite wank toy for a few weeks? I'm sure you can borrow Potters, or are you afraid he uses it himself?"

"Draco, your father will take you to be Marked, a Death Eater, if you do." Neville burst out, panic and pleading in his voice. Draco flinched, eyes widening before narrowing.

"You can't possibly know that!"

"I can! I saw – Harry saw it, he went to Dumbledore about it. But Dumbledore can't stop him, only you can. Stay here, Dumbledore will protect you."

"Who says I don't want to be Marked?" Draco sneered, despite the panic in his eyes. Neville bit his lip, thinking back to nightmares of a variety worse than any other.

"Do you know… What he does to your mum and dad?" He asked softly. Draco's eyes cleared to confusion, and Neville guessed he didn't know. He wondered if he should tell him. "Do you know what he makes them do? You get squeamish at the sight of blood, are you sure you're capable of torturing and killing people?" Draco paled but sneered. "People like me?" Neville murmured softly. The sneer fell away.

"Why should I care about you?" He hissed instead. Neville felt a flush suffuse him, and loosened his robe a little. He thought of what Voldemort did to Mr and Mrs Malfoy, what he'd do to Draco. He thought of months of thinly veiled sexual innuendos, and made a decision he was sure he'd regret, but equally sure had to work.

"Surely there's more fun things you could think of to do to me, without getting your hands dirty or sullying yourself with a muggleborn." Draco's eyes were on Neville's hands, but they flew to his eyes, full of wary amusement.

"Are you suggesting that you'll whore yourself out to me to keep me on your side?" Draco asked, a mocking smile twisting his lips.

"Despite what you think I've been doing with your broomstick, I'm a virgin. Surely that at least appeals to you, being able to corrupt a Gryffindor virgin? I know you swing my way, I've seen you with enough of your boys to know that. I'm a pureblood, according to Hermione I'm… nice enough looking, I know when to follow orders and shut up so I won't be too annoying, and you'll be completely protected by Dumbledore from your father and Voldemort."

Draco moved swiftly, flipping Neville around, exposing his ass, and holding him securely over the table. A dry finger pushed roughly into him, making him whimper in pain. "I'm not going to be gentle with you… Don't you dare make this out to be some sort of romance. And I'm _not_ going to go around being friendly with the Gryffindorks." He hissed. Neville whimpered and nodded, and Draco moved away. Neville felt very proud of himself when he took Draco up to Dumbledore's office, despite the fact he was limping a little.

Draco insisted on meetings twice a week in the Prefects bathroom, to which Neville learned quickly to come prepared, unless he was in the mood to be fucked without lube or preparation. Sometimes, especially after a particularly nasty dream, he'd only use one finger, or barely enough lube to get by. Draco never said anything, but tended to go harder on these occasions. Words were rarely exchanged, and although the sexual practices were varied and enjoyable, Draco maintained his policy that affection towards Neville was not an option.

Sowly, as Neville explored his new abilities – carefully hidden Parseltongue, more power that everyone put down to the new wand, the connection to Voldemort, he began to discover things. He discovered that, while Voldemort knew about and exploited Harry's connection, he didn't know about Neville's. So while Harry never saw viscious rapes of his Death Eaters, never had the chance to investigate possible weak-spots, never trusted whether his visions were real or traps to lure him, Neville could and did. He began to write up lists, detailing people who were under imperius, people who were spies, people who could be turned. He also began to detail lists of the dead, aware that over half of the Death Eater's victims were never identified, to give other families closure. He began to realise that this connection could be used in a way Harry's could not, and vowed that after the war, he could present this evidence and he could be useful.

The day that Draco found the list, Neville had been exhausted after a hard night, and had missed their meeting. Draco had come to Gryffindor tower, snuck in under his own invisibility cloak, and over to Neville's bed. He'd been about to wake and berate the sleeping boy when he'd spotted the parchment in his hand, and the words written on it. When Neville woke up, it was to a pale-angry, shaking Draco Malfoy. "What is this?!" He'd snarled. "How the hell do you know this stuff… What do you mean, use Draco to lure Malfoys?" Unspoken: What do you mean, "suffer rape at DL hands" went unsaid, but he was sure that was also noticed. Neville snatched the list back.

"Dumbledore has been in contact with your father, in an attempt to bring him and your mother over to our side. Primarily by using the fact that you are already on our side to persuade them. The rest of the list is in an attempt to gain as many supporters from him as we can, and to find as many people who can be acquitted afterwards, like Mr Smith. He's a Death Eater acting under the Imperio, which we have visual proof of, so when Voldemort is dead, he can go free."

"How the hell do you know this stuff?!"

"Visions…"

"Potter wouldn't see this stuff! The Dark – Voldemort would hide it from him!"

"No, Harry wouldn't." Neville sighed quietly, before distracting Draco as thoroughly as he could with sex. Still, when he hurried to Dumbledore three days later after a post-coital vision showing that Harry was about to be lured into an effective trap, Draco seemed surprised neither by the vision, nor by Neville's fears that no one else would believe him. Luckily, his father entered shortly after Neville burst into Dumbledore's office and announced it was a trap, and agreed with Draco's hasty announcement that the word had come from his father. They explained Neville's visions to him afterwards, but as they all went to what they already knew was to be the end, only Draco and Lucius knew.

Neville knew Harry would fall, saw it in Voldemort's mind in the seconds before it happened. He was unconscious, under a spell that Neville realised only he could lift from him. He saw Voldemort's wand raised, realised the intention to kill Harry, and was spitting out a killing spell in Parseltongue before he realised he even knew the spell. The violent purple light suffused him completely, before he shattered into a pile of ashes, which a quick spell had contained in an unbreakable urn for proper destruction. Draco was at his side immediately, supporting his weakened body as he motioned to Harry, who was being attended to by a Ministry medi-Witch, who shot him a strange, almost frightened look as he knelt at Harry's side. The others were watching him strangely as well, too busy mopping up the last of the Death Eaters, still writhing in agony as the Mark melted off their flesh, for the interrogation Neville knew was coming.

Harry woke up blearily, staring at Neville kneeling over him with confusion. "Neville? What happened?"

"Uhh… Voldemort died…" Neville replied evasively.

"What? How?" Harry asked, sitting up a little too quickly and grasping his un-marked forhead in pain. Neville had a brief moment to wonder if his scar was gone as well before a voice interrupted.

"I think that's a question we'd all like answered." A voice interrupted. The attack had been relatively small, and the dead bodies he could see lined up against the wall were all dressed in black. The Order were all regrouping in the corner around Harry, watching Neville with a wary almost-fear as he leaned exhaustedly against Draco. Neville unfolded a list and handed it to Dumbledore. "This first, the list shows all the Death Eaters, and those who were working under coercion. I think it'll be useful, especially given the Mark's unfortunate disappearance. I'm happy to testify under veritaserum that I've seen this stuff…"

"Seen how?" Harry asked softly. Neville stroked his bare forehead gently.

"Voldemort paid me a visit during the summer. He killed my Gran, but his attempts to curse me ended with me gaining a scar on my thigh and him gaining an Auror tail for a few hours. A few months ago in the girl's bathroom I used Parseltongue when I didn't know I could and accidentally opened the Chamber of Secrets. After that I began noticing stuff… Dreams, and things. Today it got… More. I could sort of hear what he was going to do next… Like I knew he was going to curse you, and I knew what the reversal spell was for the first one he put on you. I think I was seeing into his mind like you were, but because he was so focused on closing you out or letting you in, I managed to slip in unnoticed."

"So… So Neville was the one from the prophecy?" Harry asked faintly.

"We both were." Neville butted in softly. "You defeated him the first time, and I did this time. But it could have been you this time as well, you know. I don't really believe in the prophecies so much… I mean, if it hadn't been for the prophecy he wouldn't have come after either of us, and if he hadn't done that, we wouldn't have gotten the link to him, and wouldn't have been the ones able to beat him, because the spell used to kill him was in parseltongue, which we only have because he gave it to us. Does that make sense?" Neville asked quietly.

"Perfect sense, Neville. Now, I think both of you should see the Medi-witch, to make sure you're safe…" Neville tuned Dumbledore's words out, focusing only on Draco's warm presence at his back, and the gentle arm wrapped around his waist offering silent support and comfort as only Draco could.

When Neville returned to his Gran's house – now rebuilt and under his name – he intended to lock the door and block out the rest of the world, who had all come down with Neville-loving syndrome. Everywhere he went he was mobbed by people fawning over him, asking for autographs and oohing when he hissed for them. Harry managed to melt into the background, just as he'd always wanted, and Neville was noticed finally.

Sometimes, he thought exhaustedly, he just wanted to be the invisible one again. Being the public's hero was a tiring job. He smiled as warm arms wrapped around his waist, and a gentle kiss was pressed against the nape of his neck.

"Get mobbed again?"

"Mmhmm… Can't we just lock everyone out? I've got all I need right here…" Draco laughed warmly.

"You love it, you know you do. Besides, whatever shall I do if I'm not causing public uproar by being beautiful and unobtainable, and making their hero unavailable as well?"

"Make love to me until neither of us can walk straight and I don't even remember my name, and when those people call it in the streets I shall say "Neville? Who's Neville? And you will laugh." Draco laughed, before kissing Neville. No affection, even now, just passion. And love, so much love.


End file.
